<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Regrets by ChillieBean</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22365970">Regrets</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChillieBean/pseuds/ChillieBean'>ChillieBean</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>GERF Collection [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Overwatch (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff, Humor, M/M, Not to be taken seriously, Silly, Sorry Not Sorry, Suggestive Themes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-01-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 00:47:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>552</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22365970</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChillieBean/pseuds/ChillieBean</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a good idea at the time. Now, not so much.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>GERF Collection [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1590361</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>70</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Regrets</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For Isabelva</p>
<p>I had free reign over this one. I mentioned the premise to friends and they didn't stop me, so this is on them as much as me 😂</p>
<p>Unlike the premise of the story, I have no regrets.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Hanzo groans, clutching his stomach. This moment, right now, is </span>
  <em>
    <span>bad</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was not unexpected; there was a party and he indulged. He drank, stopping once he was in that sweet spot where he can make questionable decisions without agonising over them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>One such decision came in the form of a relatively untouched and wholly tempting cheese platter. After staring it down for most of the night, he deemed it future Hanzo’s problem and demolished it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The night improved, with that low Southwestern drawl whispering dirty things into this ear. McCree led Hanzo out of the recreation room with a hand on his ass, and straight into his quarters where lust and desire fully took over. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t regret the evening back then, either; not as he collapsed on top of McCree in a blissed-out heap, not as he lay down in McCree’s bed and closed his eyes after. It was nice having someone else to share a bed with again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But now? Now he regrets every single choice he made last night. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Usually, a nibble or two of soft cheese is fine. A little distress, nothing he can’t handle. But five, mostly complete wheels? Right now, his stomach feels like it’s tied in a knot. The </span>
  <em>
    <span>noises</span>
  </em>
  <span> it’s making would be enough to embarrass him, </span>
  <em>
    <span>if</span>
  </em>
  <span> he wasn’t a leaking gas tank. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span> have gone back to his room after sleeping with McCree because it would have spared him the </span>
  <em>
    <span>embarrassment</span>
  </em>
  <span> of looking McCree in the eye, who is equal parts amused and mortified. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Jesus </span>
  <em>
    <span>Christ</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Han," McCree says between </span>
  <em>
    <span>giggles</span>
  </em>
  <span>. "I know you avoided dairy 'cause of intolerance but if you wanna stay over, we need to talk about boundaries."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"This is not intentional," Hanzo groans. "If I could stop the flatulence, I would." He meets McCree's gaze. "I do not enjoy this."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> don’t enjoy this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How comforting of you,” Hanzo intones. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” McCree approaches, sitting next to him on the bed. “I don’t enjoy </span>
  <em>
    <span>seeing</span>
  </em>
  <span> you like this. You’re clearly in a lot of discomfort.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hanzo winces, he feels another cramp. “I’m sorry,” he mutters before his body expels more gas.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My </span>
  <em>
    <span>God</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” McCree says, grinning as he stands up and lifts his shirt to cover his nose. He steps into the bathroom, Hanzo can hear him rummaging through the cupboard, and when he returns, he is holding a bottle of air freshener. “Found this little bit of Overwatch history and couldn’t bring myself to throw it. ‘Lavender fields’, it should do the trick to freshen the room.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How </span>
  <em>
    <span>old</span>
  </em>
  <span> is that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“At least ten years old.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>McCree shrugs, pressing on the trigger. It doesn’t spray, just dribbles liquid down his fingers and onto the floor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good job.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It smells like lavender, I’m calling it a win.” McCree heads back into the bathroom, washes his hand and returns. “Anyway,” he says, dropping next to Hanzo and pulling his shirt back down, “as much shit as I’m giving you, </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> doesn’t change anything I said last night.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That you want to ride me—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That I </span>
  <em>
    <span>love</span>
  </em>
  <span> you. Sheesh,” he says with an affectionate roll of his eyes. “I love you, farts and all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hanzo playfully pushes him away. “I love you too, but right now,” he stands and runs for the bathroom, “I love the toilet more.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>It's really fun to write something silly, something that shouldn't be taken seriously. </p>
<p>Also. Couples who fart together stay together. </p>
<p>I'm on <a href="https://twitter.com/BeanChillie">Twitter</a> and <a href="https://www.pillowfort.social/ChillieBean">PillowFort!</a> Come say hi!</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>